


alternate forms of payment

by katrinawritesthings



Category: SHINee
Genre: Brotp, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-10-21 03:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: tfw u pay the stripper with bath bombsLess than half a second after Taemin’s hand closes around his wallet, he freezes. His eyes go wide as he remembers and he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside.“Oh no,” he whispers.tumblr





	alternate forms of payment

Taemin is met with both flirty smiles and jealous glares when people start noticing that he’s shown up in the club. He returns the smiles just as easily as he ignores the glares. He can’t help it if he’s the favorite Thursday regular of pretty much every stripper here. Maybe if the other dudes tried simple tactics like tipping adequate amounts of cash or keeping their hands off of the dancers they would be liked more. A quick sweep of the club finds Junghee up on the stage, jamming to the heavy bass of the music, white hair sweaty and wild, body muscular and glistening and just exuding raw power from his presence. Taemin tsks.

He doesn’t have the energy to sit around the stage; he can’t cheer and jump and wave bills around for very long at all. He comes here to sit at the tables and sip strawberry vodka and have cute babes in his lap. He’d love to be able to experience Junghee on stage like that, he’d love to make him grin wide and cocky with hollered encouragements in the hopes of seeing him flex those stunning back muscles over that flat little booty of his, but he really can’t. He blames the introvert in him as he wanders to the bar instead. He likes when Junghee comes down to talk with him more anyway. He’ll definitely take cute, quiet, giggly Junghee over the rough, loud, intense one up there. He doesn’t even mind that he can’t tell which personality is closer to his real one. He doesn’t even know his real name; all he cares about is that Junghee likes him and that he’s absolutely fucking _gorgeous_ when he smiles up close.

A few of the other workers try to flirt him up as he waits for his drink, but he waves them off politely after a minute or two of just catching up. He really only wants to spend time with Junghee tonight and he doesn’t want them wasting their efforts trying to open up his wallet for themselves when they could be trying their luck with the other clients instead. He doesn’t want to distract them from their jobs.

Junghee catches sight of him at a table after another song or two and sends him a wide smile from where he’s wrapped around the pole five feet in the air. He lifts his hands from the pole to tap his wrist with three fingers; Taemin grins back and raises his glass to show that he understood. He watches Junghee twirl back to the floor with a perfected grace that amazes him every time before he pulls his sleeve back to check his watch. He only partially understood that, to be honest. He’s not sure if Junghee meant three more songs or three more minutes. It’s around ten minutes to ten; that’s about three songs then. Taemin nods to himself as he plays with the condensation on his glass. He can wait.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s sucking on one of the ice cubes in his vodka when a glittery, glistening, bronze, almost nude babe leans up on the table in front of him.

“Hey sweetpea,” Junghee says, eyes glinting playfully as Taemin rolls his. The little pet names never get old for him.

“Hey, Jung,” he replies, trying to swallow his ice cube as subtly as possible. Bad timing. He smiles up at Junghee, glad to see his favorite babe. He’d stopped being thrown off by his sudden change in presence from on stage to on the floor a while ago. Now he just takes it in stride and appreciates the sweet smile, the gently styled bangs, the soft gold glitter that shimmers on his abs in front of Taemin’s eyes, the way his cute silver boyshorts match the highlights in his white hair. “You look extra gorgeous tonight,” he says honestly. Junghee’s smile grows and he slips closer, one hand trailing lightly over Taemin’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” he says simply. “I feel like a million bucks.” The glitter of his eyeshadow glints at Taemin as he winks. Taemin laughs softly, resting his elbow on the table. Honestly, if he could spend a million dollars on Junghee, he would. The dude deserves it. He lets Junghee into his lap easily when he offers, spreading his legs just enough for him to be comfortable. The weight of his legs is familiar, almost too heavy, but the arm Junghee slips around his neck more than makes up for it. He doesn’t straddle Taemin; instead, he sits with his legs over his lap, his side pressed nicely against Taemin’s front. Taemin likes it more this way because at least eighty percent of the time he just wants to kind of snuggle and talk. If he wants a dance he just has to mention it and Junghee won’t even complain about having to switch positions.

“How’s it going with that douche at work?” Junghee asks conversationally. “Donghae? Dongwoo?” He pouts as he tucks a stray lock of blonde hair behind Taemin’s ear. Taemin grins because this is at least the fifth time that he’s forgotten the name and he thinks it’s funny.

“Doojoon,” he corrects, “and he’s still being a douche, but my boss moved him to a further cubicle last week, so I don’t have to care anymore.” He leans back in his chair with a wide smile because he doesn’t have to care anymore and he _loves_ it. Best thing that’s ever happened to him at work. Junghee’s smile turns giddy as he straightens Taemin’s headband out next.

“That’s _so_ good, honeypie,” he says. “I’m glad you got away from him.”

“Same,” Taemin says. He reaches up to brush a large speck of glitter off of Junghee’s cheek, and then lowers his hand quickly before it even moves two inches. He’s always so good about not touching the workers but sometimes his reflexes try to kick in before his memory does. He sticks his hands under his thighs instead to remind himself, pointedly ignoring Junghee’s cocked brow and smirk. With his hands under his butt, he feels the edge of his wallet brushing his wrist. He doesn’t know how long Junghee has been here talking to him so far, but he knows that all the money in there is going to wind up in Junghee’s hand by the end of the night anyway, so. He guesses it doesn’t really matter _when_ he starts giving him the cash.

Less than half a second after his hand closes around his wallet, he freezes. His eyes go wide as he remembers and he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside.

“Oh no,” he whispers.

“Hmm?” Junghee asks. His pretty red lips curve into a little pout. “What’s wrong, forgot your wallet?” Taemin rips his horrified gaze from somewhere around Jonghyun’s shoulder to focus on his face. He gapes wordlessly for a moment as he tries to comprehend how he could have  fucked up this badly.

“Uh--um,” he says eventually when Junghee starts looking at him funny. “I, um. I have my wallet, just.” He pulls it out and opens it with a grimace that comes from his soul. “There’s just. No money in here, because, um. I, uh. Fuck.” He leans back in his chair and rubs his hand over his face. He’s so fucking ashamed and embarrassed.

“Um,” Junghee says slowly. “You okay?”

“No--I mean, yes, just.” Taemin groans and sits up straight, flaps at Junghee’s hips to get him to stand up. “Just, I’ll be right back, hold on, here’s…. I don’t know, a free twenty-piece mcnuggets, just--” He thrusts the coupon into Junghee’s hands as some kind of payment (“Ooh,” Junghee smiles) and scuttles out of the club, face red as a tomato. He’s such an anus.

He makes eye contact with literally no one as he jogs to his car, pops the trunk, and lugs the Box of Shame out of the corner. Ugh. He can’t believe he fucking _forgot_  about this piece of shit. It jostles against his leg as he heads back towards the front. He curses to himself when he catches sight of the bouncer and fumbles with in wallet with one hand.

“Here, Jinki, ID,” he mumbles, showing Jinki his card for the second time tonight. Jinki looks at it, and then at him, and then at his box. Taemin’s blushes even darker. “Look, it’s fine, trust me, just, take one and shut up about it, please.” He hauls the box up and thrusts it under Jinki’s nose; Jinki looks inside for two seconds before his eyebrows raise in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, lifting both brows at Taemin. “Are you fucking serious.” Taemin feels his soul crumbling under the laughter Jinki is trying to muffle into his hand.

“Take _two_ and just let me in, _please_ ,” he begs. Jinki snorts ugly laughter as he reaches inside and grabs two.

“I literally can not believe this, get inside,” he grins. Taemin barely breathes out a heavy “thank you” before he’s scurrying through the doors. Junghee is still at the table where Taemin left him, chatting up a tall person in a suit with another stripper. When Junghee spots him, though, he smiles them off and lets their friend take them somewhere more private. Taemin practically falls into the chair with the box heavy in his lap.

“Okay,” he says, trying to look like he’s not bright fucking red and probably a little sweaty as Junghee leans on the table and cocks his hip.

“Welcome back, snowflake,” he says, cocking a brow as well. A quick smile flits over Taemin’s lips as he struggles to catch his breath. He catches Junghee trying to peep into the box and crosses his arms over it defensively.

“Okay,” he says again. “You know how. At the mall. There’s that Lush store?”

“...Yeah,” Junghee says slowly. He’s looking from the box to Taemin, disbelief already dawning on his face. Taemin grimaces but straightens his posture. He’s gonna own this, damn it.

“Okay, so, I was at the mall to get just, you know, mall stuff,” he says, flapping his hand behind him to demonstrate. Junghee nods with a hum, silver fingernails tapping over the table. Taemin finds that it’s really hard to explain this if he’s looking into Junghee’s eyes so he settles on the perfect angles of his eyebrows instead. “And I saw the Lush store,” he continues, “so I was like, yeah, why the fuck not, right? I’d always wanted to try a bath bomb or whatever. But I didn’t know how they really worked? So I asked if I could test a little one, and they let me, and it was so fucking cool, and then… now I have… one. Hundred. Lush bath bombs.” He finally opens up the box to show Junghee the rainbow spoils of his shame. A good six hundred and something dollars worth of glitter and dye. He knew his lack of self-control would really fuck him up big time one day.

“Oh my god,” Junghee whispers, much like Jinki did two minutes ago. Taemin lugs the box up onto the table so it can only crush him metaphorically instead of physically.

“And so I blew all my money on _these_ and then I forgot to hit the ATM again _after_ and now I have fucking nothing to _pay_ you with except… bath bombs.” He groans the last part out with his face half in his hands. He’s such a fucking… disappointment. He shouldn’t have even come back tonight. He’s just wasting Junghee’s time.

“Oh my _god,_ ” Junghee repeats. “This is--everything I’ve ever wanted. Oh my fucking god.”

“What?” Taemin looks up from his despair to see Junghee eagerly rifling through the box. He pulls out a green sphere to dig for the blue one underneath it, twisting it in his hand to look at the swirls of color. Then he switches back to Taemin, eyes bright.

“You’re really gonna let me have some of these?” he asks excitedly. Taemin blinks, fidgeting anxiously with the hem of his sleeve.

“Um,” he says. “I mean. If that’s okay? Instead of money? You can just _take_ them, I have too many, and like--go to other customers if you--”

“No, no, I’m gonna work the fuck out of my booty for these,” Junghee says. He sits himself right down in Taemin’s lap, which Taemin isn’t expecting at all. He lets out a whoosh of breath and puts his hands on Junghee’s waist to steady him. “I’d take money for free if you offered but I’d feel way too guilty just taking all of these. Plus I think you deserve a little something extra for this.” He smiles mischievously and tilts Taemin’s chin up with a soft finger. Taemin swallows thickly.

“Oh,” he says. Fuck, he’s so thrown off. He feels like it’s his first time at a strip club again. Suddenly he realizes that his hands are still on Junghee’s waist and snatches them away. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but Junghee takes his wrists in his pretty hands before he can stuff them under his legs.

“Nuh uh,” he smiles. “You can touch tonight. I’m breaking the rules.” He brings Taemin’s hands back to his waist and presses them there firmly. Taemin’s breath comes out a little shaky as he feels for the first time just how warm and _soft_ Junghee’s skin is, specks of glitter little bumps under his fingers. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to him here. He rubs his thumbs over Junghee’s skin slowly, savoring the chance to do so. Junghee looks extremely amused at how blown away he is, but he doesn’t even care. “Only my waist, though,” Junghee says then. “Don’t be trying to feel up my booty.” It’s casual, but still strict, and Taemin nods.

“Okay,” he says immediately. He has no desire to do anything Junghee doesn’t want and he’s seen what happens to people that don’t respect the dancers. He’s not into being thrown out on the curb. Junghee drapes one arm over Taemin’s shoulder and brushes the fingers of the other through his hair, hips moving slowly to the music like they usually do when he lets himself get distracted.

“Now come on, sugar,” Junghee purrs. “How was your week? You’ve never left me hanging this long.” He pouts like he’s offended that Taemin hasn’t started up their normal conversation yet. Taemin shakes his head, presses his fingertips just into Jonghyun’s skin, fights to get himself back to normal and stop embarrassing himself. “What else did you get at the mall?” Junghee prompts. Taemin watches him pull a golden bath bomb out of the box and inspect it with a wide grin. “Is this one of those dragon egg ones?” he asks curiously. Taemin chuckles softly and pulls the box closer to himself to find the receipt. At least this is something to talk about until he remembers the rest of his life.


End file.
